


Under the Small Intestine, or How I Learned to Stop Suffering and Love Jason Todd

by BroomEater2001



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010)
Genre: Abdomen Pain, Cinnamon Allergy, Clumsiness, Cupcakes, Embarrassment, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Framework for more fluff, French Kissing, Freudian Elements, Gotham City - Freeform, Handholding, Hegelian Dialectic, Homelessness, Inner Dialogue, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, Introspection, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Late-Capitalist Hellscape, Love at First Sight, Making Out, Master of Disguise, Meeting the Parents, Mutual Pining, Pet Names, Pot roast, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Sharing a Bed, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Soulmates, Terrible Parents, Undressing, Weighted Bedsheet, crossing the road while holding hands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25137859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BroomEater2001/pseuds/BroomEater2001
Summary: You, Y/N, find your soulmate, Jason Todd, through a convoluted series of events involving an organized homeless mafia and you getting stabbed in the abdomen. This is not important. Importantly, these events end up with you accidentally having Jason Todd over for dinner, specifically pot roast. Very sensual, downright licentious events occur; a lot of introspection and personal development happens for both you and Jason.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Reader, Jason Todd/Reader, Red Hood/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31





	1. Beginning Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty please skip to Chapter 5, I'm begging you, save yourself from the awful first 4 chapters of this fic and instead subject yourself to the slightly less awful remaining chapters. You'll barely miss any relevant plot details, think of the beginning chapters as a bonus for people who desperately want to read bad fanfiction.

You sit in your brand new cubicle, the culmination of years of work and effort climbing the Gotham City corporate ladder, your legs planted straight onto the floor so as to appear to any supervisor overseeing yourself as a productive and well-adjusted employee. There is an infinite sadness in your heart, unfulfilled as it is by your doldrum life, trapped as it is betwixt the infinite late capitalist hellscape of your upper middle class white collar workplace and the unending tyranny of the uncompromising suffocation of the parents you are forced to live with. Diagonally to the bottom right of your heart, sits your appendix, which has from birth stubbornly refused to orally exit your body.

You sit a while longer, typing into an excel spreadsheet, your slender hands moving in a rhythmic malaise. As you tap keys and click mice, you think about your poor old middle school friend, whose name at the moment escapes you, and how the year she had to get her appendix removed, she didn't really think of it as a big deal, and but yet a year later the consequences of her appendectomy seemed to have truly hit home and broke her home down, and burnt her home to ashes. You remember her having invited you and some mutual friends for a sleepover, during which you alone awoke to her crying in the fetal position, and how in your attempts to console her she revealed how the fact that she could never be certain as to whether or not she would truly meet her one and only significant other to be, she revealed how the fact that she would never feel the wriggling snake like organ be absorbed into her intestines, travel through her stomach and end up being vomited straight through her mouth twelve hour after meeting her soulmate; caused her a near constant stream of grief, she revealed finally, how, in the complete and utter ruin of a state she existed within, she worried she might begin to consider polygamy.

You shudder as you remember the way her lips moved as she uttered those words, the sole solace you take as you look up the excel shortcut for inserting a pie chart, is knowing full well that your report to the council of enforced monogamy allowed her the grace of conversion therapy, which you to this day still manage to find pride in.

It is now lunch time, and so you log out your cubicles terminal and head to the break room, where you are whelmed to see your colleagues have already gathered, and so you open the fridge to collect your lunch.

It is a whole wheat sandwich with the crust cut off, its internals spread from side to side with mayonnaise, then assaulted with a layer of cucumbers which also have their sides crust cut off, the now bare interior of the cucumber a mosaic of salt and pepper. This on its own would have been preferred, however your mind cannot erase the rounded amaranth square glistening as it is with the blood of piglets.

You are a vegan, this much cannot be denied. As such, you find it important to remind yourself as you sit outside, as your colleagues remark on what a wonderfully sunny day the park they are inhabiting; that you are also a utilitarian, and as such, from a utilitarian point of view, it does not make sense to discard the slice which represents a horrific industry of suffering, since despite the abject horror which went into its production, you consuming the output does not function as a morally reprehensible action, nor does it make you complicit in the aforementioned system, your mother, the person who created this testament to human cruelty, is the one who should be reminded of your vehement stance against supporting such an industry.

Your co-worker's friend whom you have not yet met, taking a break from eviscerating his double-decker cheeseburger, instead opts to use his mouth to make a lewd remark regarding your decision to eat cucumbers, implying to you that it represents a Freudian desire towards objects of a phallic nature, you do not blush, nor do you sigh lethargically, it simply does not affect you.

Your co-workers neglect their symphony of giggles gossip and musings to in unison stare towards you, or more specifically to stare slightly above your forehead at a tall and terrifyingly unhinged man pointing what can conservatively be described as a large knife at the small of your back, as it happens, your co-workers are freed from their unending focus to gasp in shock as your grey linen shirt is both ripped and soon after stained red. As your ribs begin to become acquainted with the metallic gentleman which has entered their house uninvited, you begin to lose consciousness from the adrenaline usually reserved for truly horrifying experiences like the teacup ride at Disneyland. You fade to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally, the note here said: so far 4 chapters are written, 3 are setup (but gold), and the 4th (also gold) is when i can start just GOING FOR IT AND BANGING OUT FLUFF AFTER FLUFF. Hey, I think if i ever end this fic ill do it by having jason and yn just do the smuttiest, most depraved acts i can come up with, let me know if that's a good idea (it is).


	2. Beginning Part 2

You are in the intensive care unit of the hospital, a handful of your close personal co-workers seem to be in extremely uncomfortable shoes only to be placed into a mild relief when they see you regain consciousness. You ask them what happened and are rather confused when they remind you of a supposed homeless man stabbing you in the ribs. A nurse cuts through the awkward exposition to break onto you an egg of tragedy. Due to not technically being in a place of work during the eviscerating of your layers of skin, your insurance it would happen was not valid and you are presented an itemized bill of what to anybody removed from the tragedy would seem a comically large number. Your co-workers spark into a particular tone of outrage seemingly designed to let you know they will put in the bare minimum effort to seems as if they will try and get you supposed justice through means of a strongly worded complaint to the HR department. They leave shortly after.

You are alone, as you are moved to a ward to stay what will end up being a very costly night, you begin to contemplate calling your parents, somehow finding the pure determination required to do so you ask a nurse to bring you your personal belongings to which she informs you of their theft at the hands of the unseen vagrant. You try to sleep.

You are awoken by a very bad smell indeed, farts smell bad, this smell is worse than farts. Almost immediately you realize the smell is coming from your own mouth and begin to scatter your arms around the side of the bed looking for a button to call a nurse. Attempts to call for help you soon realize don’t result in words being cohered, instead it feels like somebody has shoved a sock down your gullet after having knitted a sock out of your gullet. You begin to struggle to breath, seemingly forgetting you have a nose, and for a moment you start to hyperventilate, this is immediately filled by what can only be described as the entire contents of your stomach, and blood.

The sound of liquid hitting the tiled floor at high velocity combined with your throat’s best impression of a leviathan caught the attention of a nurse, who immediately called for more nurses. The smell of almonds almost disappeared over the scent of half-digested cucumbers and more blood. The now switched on fluorescent lights gave the otherwise maroon pile of upchuck an almost volcanic tinge. The lights also made apparent what seemed to be a half-eaten chicken thigh protruding from the otherwise spread out diorama of disgorgement, you find this strange considering your vegan state of existence.

The first nurse having returned from her recruitment campaign immediately made her way to your still vomiting self and gave you a big hug. This was soon followed by a modest band of claps and cheers from the nurses. You realize now that the pile of meat on the floor is in fact your meat, and that your intestines feel empty in part due to 3 inches of appendix having been expelled from them.

Despite it causing distinct and constant pain to your lower torso and ribs, you cannot help but feel the need to laugh in joy, for what must be the first time in a long time. The nurses while mopping up the floor and dabbing your chin to remove the mixture of blood and vomit, ask you if you have any idea who your special somebody could be. You tell them it seems unclear to you.

You fall back asleep.


	3. Beginning Part 3

Jason Todd is the red hood, this much is for certain.

As such, Jason Todd is intricately involved in the numerous criminal gangs, violent gangs, regular mafias, sex traffickers, meta-human traffickers, vigilante hate-clubs, hate-crime funders, cult-like criminal organizations, thematic goon squads, covert illegal corporate operations, unlawful unethical individuals, bars which allow minors to drink, villainous collaborations, secret underground organizations, century-old organizations created to assert control, villains, super villains, and loiterers which plague Gotham city.

One such organization is the grass-roots vertically-organized homeless person mafia which has been spreading its roots throughout Gotham by utilizing pluralist rhetoric which appeals to the systemically oppressed vagrants; a mafia using its numerous members to steal from the rich in order to house and feed its many tramps.

Jason Todd is not a homeless person, as it happens he sleeps in a car. In order to utterly demolish the hobo enterprise and supplant it with his own, Jason Todd decides to infiltrate the ranks through the art of disguise as taught to him by Batman who used to have Jason Todd under his wing as Robin, but this is no longer the case.

Jason Todd does not shave, he simply waits for the follicles of hair to decide it’s in their best interest to shave themselves off, this however means that in order to properly present oneself in a homeless manner, a great deal of coin must be spent at the costume dollar store on a Santa Clause beard, which must then of course, be dirtied.

Jason Todd had dressed up for the role, days pass as he stalks the streets for a member of the notoriously horrific vagrant mafia. Spotting one sleeping on a bench in the Gotham Community Park Centre and Martha Wayne Memorial Park.

Jason Todd wakes the man up, and asks begs and pleads to pledge allegiance. “Hi, my name is Tason Jodd.” Jason Todd purports to the man, he falls for this ruse hook line and sinker. The member asks him to prove himself with a show of his allegiance to-be-pledged. They discuss possible methods for Jason, who the hobo thinks is called Tason, the fool that he is; to show proof of his allegiance. “””””Tason””””” points towards a random attractive civilian and suggests proving his loyalty by stabbing her in the small of her back in front of all the witnesses and then stealing her handbag and all the items within it. The vagabond commented on that being perhaps too extreme. From this, using his detective abilities, Jason Todd a.k.a. Tason Jodd intuited that the homeless man was clearly trying to see how devoted he was, and as such, the only way to truly show loyalty was to in fact go ahead with the assault with a deadly weapon on whomever it was he initially pointed at. As such, Jason immediately got up onto Jason Todd’s two feet and began jogging at a swift pace towards the bench in question.

Your screeches, which you yourself do not remember uttering, are a melody in of themselves, and Jason Todd cannot help but be captivated at the ability of a person suffering from internal bleeding to perform an A minor chord in perfect falsetto. Jason Todd has perfect pitch.

Jason Todd throws the handbag at the hobo and disappears, the homeless man is promptly arrested under suspicions of aiding and abetting assault with a deadly weapon, and will spend the rest of his life in a Gotham penitentiary.

In twelve short hours, Jason manages to move from a mere woman-stabbing lackey all the way to getting a meeting with the man on top himself, Homeless Joe, Hojo.

“I have deal and demands in the deal, they deserve due discourse.”

“Tell me, Tason Jodd, do you know why they call me Homeless Joe?”

“What are you talking about, people call you Hojo, who’s Joe?”

“Joe mama.”

It is not very often that Jason Todd finds himself absolutely destroyed in the free marketplace of ideas, however even the greatest among us must eventually fall, and this was the case for Tason Jodd.

Dear god, Jason was so completely and utter destroyed that his stomach began to lose its foundation, as Jason tried and struggled to find the words required to retort the complete and utter annihilation he had just faced, the leftover cheeseburger he had eaten 2 days ago decided to materialize instead. Oh good heavens! That’s not a 2-day-old cheeseburger, that’s Jason Todd’s appendix! Oh my! It seems this incredible series of events has caused Jason Todd to blush!

It would seem that Jason Todd could not have found a better crowd of hoodlums to lose his appendix with, Homeless Joe almost sheds a tear at the sight of such a momentous occasion, sadly the tear does not have time to lose suction to Hojo’s skin before Hojo is struck by a heart attack out of sheer compassion for Tason. The other bums in the room can’t help but congratulate Tason and to show their appreciation for being able to witness such a blessed moment, decide to gift Jodd his very own leadership position at the top of the homeless mafia, where a position has just been made available. Tason I mean Jason accepts.


	4. Beginning Part 4

The springs in the bed cause of you’re already weeping ribs to break out in a full out mucus-filled crescendo agony. You as such cannot sleep, and so when a strange man with no beard enters your room, you cannot help but ask for some morphine.

“Excuse me, can you up my morphine dosage, I’d like some morphine, on account of the incredible pain inhabiting my entire lower body, morphine pretty please?”

“That’s right young lady, using my incredible detective abilities, I have discovered that you are in fact my soulmate, oh nooooooo! I’ve revealed to you that I am in fact the prodigy of the incredible detective Batman, who is actually Bruce Wayne, and that, as it happens, I have turned to the role of anti-hero as THE RED HOOD.”

You are immediately star struck by the man who has entered your room, hopelessly enamored by the lack of hairs on his chinny chin chin, the way he holds himself up, like a statue miraculously still standing despite the world having ended; your eyes are helplessly drawn to his eyes, eyes which will no doubt be etched into your subconscious for all of eternity, the way they with a single glance share such pain, such suffering and yet, such compassion, you believe that in this particular case, the compassion and kindness will outweigh the former. And none of this is to even comment on the pure confidence and bravado which a person needs to unironically wear a leather jacket in Gotham of all places. Furthermore, you assume he has a good sense of humor with regards to his reference to the decades old meme concerning Batman and Bruce Wayne; of course, a reference to this meme on it’s own would be shameful and less than satisfactory, however in the context of two strangers introducing one another, it is very haha funny indeed.

Your mind races so quickly over all the features of this man’s body that you almost forget to react to his proclamation of you being his soulmate. Dear good heavens, did the nurses gossip to the news outlets that quickly? My dear heavens, will you now be presented with a line of suitors, all intent on proving themselves as your true soulmate, for no other reason but to deprive you of your rightful bond? Oh good graces, what is that strange amorphous object this man has just now pulled from behind himself in order to present to you?

“My appendix has seen better days, I’m sure you could say the same.”

You hang on every syllable this modern Adonis utters, and you are (much like the plastic bag suspended from the man’s hands containing his appendix) still.

“What’s your name?” You can feel blood leak from your intestines into your kidneys with every syllable.

“It’s Ta-Jason Todd. Say, can I walk you home?”

Your ribs seem to agree it’s best to stop being in agony if for but the opportunity to say yes to this request, and so you say yes, and put on clothes and leave the hospital. A feat made much easier by the nurses preoccupation taking Instagram pictures of your appendix. And so you walk to the zebra crossing on the road next to the hospital which needs to be crossed so as to make it to your house.

You find it hard to pay attention to the changing lights overhead, a feat made especially difficult to you by Jason’s placement in the opposite direction, his aloof silhouette outlined by fog and smelling faintly of grit, even in the cold air. It is this which perhaps goes to explain why you mistakenly begin crossing the road in a way your mother would always describe as “psychotically premature”. You are only about two and a half steps on your journey when Jason instinctively yoinks you from the hand back to the sidewalk, a feat which you appreciate only once you re-gather your bearings, as such in the four seconds it takes you to realize the mistake you’ve made you begin to go through the motions of being very much incredulous at what Jason’s just gone ahead and done, the sheer nerve of him. You are unsure if it is this or the fact that you are still holding Jason’s hand which makes you blush.

You cross the road still holding hands, as you do you begin to realize that there is no momentum within the arch made through the combination of arms, arms ending in hands ending in fingers which have now interlaced; the V shape sits there between the two of you without swaying, like 2 work colleagues joining forces to carry an exceptionally heavy bag of groceries. And but yet worse still is the fact that you only just now remembered how sweaty your hands are, in fact due to the horrible mistake you’ve made of being outside, your hands are both cold and sweaty, a combination leading to a clam like texture, undoubtedly causing Jason to wonder who in his rogue’s gallery must have cursed him to end up with such an arduous task of a relationship with you.

You somehow manage to travel all the way to your house without convincing Jason he’s better off never speaking to another human being again, which is the way you decide to frame the fact that you’ve been too embarrassed to say a word to Jason the whole way to your home.

“This is a really nice apartment you have I like the way the outside door’s been painted so many times over that the paint has started to crack and cave in, it’s a really unique texture.”

You suddenly become aware at the sheer extent of your lack of door related knowledge, and also of the fact that you have to decide whether or not to let Jason in, what ever will you do?


	5. Dinner Part 0

“Hey thanks for walking me home, uhh, I doubt you don’t want to come in, right?”

It takes you no time at all to realize the incredible mistake you’ve made in creating a double negative. You wonder if your ability to not accidentally say the exact opposite thing you meant to might be improved if it were but for the incredible amount of difficulty you seem to find yourself having even looking at Jason.

“Yeah alright, okay yeah.”

“Oh, ok sure here let me open up.”

You reach into your left pocket with your left hand, doing so causes you to accidentally scrape your hip with using around the relative force a hummingbird exerts when landing on an oak tree, this causes in you what you imagine leftovers inside a garbage disposal feel like. This it could be said, loosened your footing. When you realized your keys were not in your left pocket you as such were too busy using your right hand to grip your pain-creating-ribs to use it on your right pocket. Not wanting to make Jason wait you thus decided to use your left arm for the procurement of the keys. The direct path over your torso was obstructed by your omnipresent chest and also your right arm, and so you decide to try and snake your arm around your back and into your right pocket.

Midway through this process, around when you truly begin to resemble a pretzel, you realize that you after having lost footing, did not manage to secure a replacement, and as such have now begun falling down the stairway preceding your apartment’s front door.

And so for the second time in as many hours you have managed to through a combination of your base clumsiness, inability to concentrate around Jason, and perhaps also the immense and constant pain in your stabbed ribs, you once again place the aforementioned Jason into the role of you shining knight in armor, saving you from yourself in the most literal of ways.

Being the hero is of course not an unfamiliar position for Jason Todd, and is one that in this scenario is made considerably easier due to his condition of being physically behind the falling you, allowing him to grab you before you even started making a parallel line with the stairs.

As such you now exist slumped onto Jason Todd, whose nose now has your ponytail resting on it, with Jason’s hands grabbing you by the armpits.

You take an eternity to get your footing back, and as you turn around to thank Jason for sparing you a cracked skull to match your ribs, and also you realize, to properly thank him for stopping your pre-emptive perilous pavement-to-asphalt march; you spot your parents walking up the road behind him, only moments from seeing you.

Jason Todd commits the cardinal sin of not looking behind him to see who he would recognize from his thorough detective research as your parents, he does however recognize the strange uncomfortable look on your face.

The look on your face seems to compel Jason Todd to have some introspection, during which he manages to have some self-awareness on the way he’s acting, and especially the way he’s been acting towards you. A few particular incidents come to his mind, such as the way he perhaps shouldn’t have used his privileged position of access to notable resources to unscrupulously look up a great deal of details on who is after all his soulmate, and that whilst it certainly made actually finding his soul bound partner a great deal easier to plug into a backdoor installed into the Wayne Enterprises Surveillance and Espionage Network, he should have possibly refrained from using it to look up her Facebook page and also then go through the entire page making a mental note of every detail imaginable. He considered the possibility that it was perhaps this guilt that caused him to so crassly state not only his own personal secret identity, but also that of the bat man Himself, a horrible misstep in vigilante etiquette which he could only thank Highfather was taken as a jest. And why did he have to go into such detail about the qualities of your apartment’s entrance door? It was a quite the assumption to make that you even had a thorough door discourse dialect, and were you even to have one, did he want to imply that you were so dense so as to not even pay attention to the door of your very own place of living. Jason didn’t want to after all come off as chauvinistic, he did after all see himself as an egalitarian at heart.

Considering all of the above and perhaps more, Jason realizes that perhaps the mannerisms he has portrayed so far have made you feel almost threatened into inviting him in, and not wanting to use fear as an asset outside of his work, Jason as such responds to your current facial expression, one which you have managed to hold throughout the entire inner monologue, with the following:

“Hey you’re tired, I understand you wanting to sleep on your own, and so it’s alright if you don’t want to sleep with me in the house so that you can get some rest and sleep. It’s cool with me.”

Jason does not consider himself a master wordsmith, nor a professional quote maker of any sort, but even holding himself to his own standards he can immediately see the cavalcade of repeated information, possible unintended innuendo, accidentally prescriptive statements, and generally clunkiness to the words having just exited his mouth. Thankfully Jason has the situational awareness to not freeze up and instead rephrase the last blunder as the following:

“I don’t need to sleep with you, you know that?”

Jason’s thoughts here can be summarized as “oh no not again.”

After a brief pause which for different respective reasons feels to Jason and yourself like an eternity, you are forced by you realizing your parents realized you are standing at the front door with a tall, unknown man who is seemingly unironically wearing a leather jacket in Gotham city; to say something dear god anything.

“Hi Jason, these are my mom and dad.” You construct desperately as a portmanteau of “Hi mom and dad.” And “Jason these are my parents.”

In a thick Gotham accent, your father responds “Ok is he going to have dinner with us?” To which your uncharacteristically sweet-sounding mother continues “Oh yes Jason you must come inside and eat with us, we’re going to make pot roast.”

“I wouldn’t want to overstep any bounds, and besides I’d hate to leave you all hungry, so I should probably go.” Jason says as he realizes that in fact not only did you hear his bad attempts at sentences but in fact so did your parents.

“Oh nonsense non-sense young man, Jason was it? Your friend’s silly father insisted on buying too many groceries so we could easily and in fact we’d be happy to have you.”

“I’m not silly, honey tell them I’m not silly.”

“Please please I insist you join us, lead the way in darling the door’s open.”

The door was unlocked the whole time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said last time, the fluff train has left the station choo choo, although I don't know if this strictly counts as fluff. Additionally, I want to clarify that when i said Jason prayed to the Highfather, that was a metaphor, I do not believe that this Jason is in fact very religious, he might become so later not sure. Also, anyway, this is the first time I actually followed up a work instead of just starting a new one, what an achievement!


	6. Dinner Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I named Y/N's parents Miriam and Eustace to make the dialogue scenes with them a bit easier to parse, or at least i hope that was the effect, i hope this doesn't completely annihilate your immersion. Additionally this chapter was initially gonna be a lot longer, which is why it ends abruptly. I'm not sure when I'll write more chapters, that is to say it will likely be a while, which is why I'm releasing this part now, thanks for reading xoxo.

Pot roast is a braised beef dish, generally characterized as a cut of steak seasoned and placed in a pot with an assorted assortment of vegetables to slowly cook over the course of between 2 to 3 hours.

You wonder to yourself how long these ~3 hours will extend to when multiplying them through the use of the proverbial taffy stretcher that consists of eating dinner with your parents + the way an eternity seems to unfold between every heartbeat your eyes are even in the same time zone as Jason Todd. Will the last stars die out before you finish eating your last slice of very juicy and well-seasoned carrot? Only the seemingly infinite stretch of time will tell.

You also begin to wonder why your parents left the door unlocked in Gotham city, especially when it’s an open secret that only 2 blocks away The Penguin-Clayface Joint Entrepreneurial Embezzlement Venture with Thanks Made for Accommodations Provided by Simon Hurt, is in the works. Perhaps the landlord confiscated their keys in order to satiate his unquenchable thirst for keys, it is as of yet hard to say.

“Y/N dear, would you ever so kindly bring out some plates so that our guest here can join us once the pot roast is ready?”

You can’t recall the last time you needed to go and get spare plates from the box-room which your parents call your bedroom. You recall having to move them from them from their display shelf which they must have been sitting in for a good lustrum due to having caught a glimpse of yourself reflecting in them whilst masturbating in the middle of the day. On account of the sheer volume of possibilities available you don’t quite remember the precise content which got your face sweaty and bothered enough to make looking at it through the distorted reflection in a display case barely far enough from the foot of your single-bed to allow passage; although on account of age at the time it would like have been during what your parents called your “vigilante-phase” and what you don’t call anything due to a refusal to acknowledge its existence.

Jason’s stomach bacteria have progressively over the course of the years spent away from a certain major-domo, have progressively become more and more in tune with the grease-inseminated döner-dispensing delights the delicatessen down by one of the many so to speak crime hot spots which need to be surveyed by who else but Jason Todd. As such, the desire for a change of pace within Jason Todd is not nominal enough to cause his sudden and unexplained vacation of the premises, Jason Todd as it happens, enjoys a good pot roast.

This being said, Jason is not blind to the current palpable cut-with-means-of-a-knife-able tension found within the room caused presumably by his presence, a tension which he fears may become too unbearable were you to leave him in a room with your parents. With this in mind as well as the seemingly unbearable agony afflicting your lower torso, Jason decides the lesser of 2 embarrassments would come from assisting you.

“I’ll help her get them then.”

“Oh my no need young man, I’m sure Y/N can make it to her room and back with no trouble at all, and besides Mr Todd, we’d love to get to know a little bit more about you, isn’t that right hubby?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not like Y/N ever tells us about her friends, so please please please won’t you sit down for a little bit take off your jacket and tell us a little bit about yourself. And Y/N make sure to get the cutlery for the plates as well. Oh you can just put your jacket on the chair Jason.”

“Alright sure I’ll do that.”

Jason has been handed an impossible puzzle with regards to which chair sit in, obviously when dealing with rectangular tables such as the one currently presented to him, a shape the diagonal lace tablecloth seemed to have missed the memo regarding; the short-end would obviously be preferable due to the ease of escape it provides. However of course under the current social circumstance the act of sitting at either end of the table might be seen as a slight towards the patriarch of the house, depriving them of their rightful throne as a showing of dominance. Of course there is no reason to assume from all the words your dad has said as of yet that he would be so sensitive towards what would to what Jason Todd would consider a rational and well-headed individual be an irrelevance, however the central seating position combined with the fact that both parents, both of the traditional authority figures are currently standing up, putting themselves through a joint discomfort in order to provide Jason and you with nourishment, might go to further consolidate in everybody’s mind the perceived dichotomous power structure. However it is this very same lack of any pre-existing seating arrangements which makes choosing a lengthwise seat so suicidal, since sitting in one of the 4 available side seats would of course bring in the possibility of being flanked by one of 3 known epicures, as well as possibly more guests on account of any siblings you may have whom you did not mention. However this possibility was lowered in its likelihood due to aforementioned knowledge ascertained through facebook based means. This did not however make for sufficient explanation as to the total of 6 chairs found at the table. Sure these could be chairs reserved for occasions similar to the one Jason has created in this very instance, but then why would you need to have gone to collect plates? Surely the storage of spare chairs would precede the storage of spare plates? Perhaps the nuisance of carrying and storing the chairs is a greater deterrence than the unnecessary volume the chairs take up. And none of this was even to consider the-

You walk up through the serpentine hallway to your faux-bedroom. As you come to the door you begin to dread the very much a lot of pain and all around bad times which loom ahead of you once you begin to push down the brass door handle, and so you begin to almost indulge in the mere idea of how pushing down on the handle will cause your shoulder’s muscles to flex, which will quickly ink out a letter to be sent by express post to you abdomen, informing it to shout out in agony over the stampede of pressure it’s being trampled under, concluding in you biting your lip trying not to echo out into the hallways any evidence of your profane pain.

Once you inevitably come to actually opening the door, it is exactly as painful as you imagined.

Managing not to open your mouth and thus your parent’s ears to the sounds of your guttural wails of abdominal discomfort, you enter your room and are now in your room.

You try and recall where you moved the pseudo-oriental dishware to, in the somewhat melancholy huff of disappointment you found yourself in after having so effectively sexually sedated yourself. You recall that you placed them immediately underneath the display portion of the case into the wooden drawers underneath. The cherry grain of the display case does not match the hickory frame of your single-bed.

Due to the sheer quantity of boxes which your parents over the years decided would live a nice happy long life in your room, the available walking space accessible to you is more accurately described as shimmying space. And so you shimmy to the display case and only once you reach it are you made aware of a decision now required from you concerning the method of crouching which you must now utilize. Squatting would of course, tense your abdomen into the ouchie zone, and due to the sheer proximity of the display case to the bed, a “bending over to grab a coin littering the sidewalk” type manoeuvre is out of the question. This leaves you then with no choice but to prostrate yourself before the demanded dishes’ altar and pray your knees don’t get bruised by the parquet floor.

The sassafras parquet matches neither the cherry display case nor the hickory bed-frame.

“So tell us then Jason dearest, how do you know are darling Y/N? How did you two meet?”

Jason Todd is not confident in his choice of seating. However even this great anxiety is but a mere trifle when compared to the utter flummox of a question your mother has just presented him with.

“Oh we’re friends from work. Which means we met at work, while working obviously.”

Neither you nor Jason Todd are aware of the fact that this statement is in fact somewhat true. Which means that Jason Todd here is lying to your parents, right to their face. Thankfully with your door open you just about catch this from the other side of the apartment, the walls unable to dampen your mothers’ artificial sweetness, nor the glib tone Jason seems to attach to every word, which you for some reason don’t find sardonic, cynical and pathetic but instead find sweet, comforting and pain-soothing.

“Work! That’s another thing Y/N never talks about! Oh but goodness me and mine we’d have an easier time counting the things she does talk to us about! Isn’t that right Eustace?”

“Yes honey.”

“Oh dear heavens! I forgot to ask you if you have a nutmeg allergy Jason!”

“Oh I don’t.” Jason does have a cinnamon allergy, however he is not aware, only Alfred knows this.

“Miriam look there’s been a shooting down the street.”

“Is this supposed to be news Eustace? Get off your phone and back to dicing onions, so tell me Jason how long have you and-“

“Miriam look there’s been an appendix event.”

“Eustace stop pulling my leg in front of our guest, next you’re going to tell me that it belongs to our daughter. Ha, could you imagine that Jason?”

“No.”

“That remind me Jason, how long have you and Y/N known each other, and it must have been a good long while indeed for Y/N to bring herself to invite you to our house, she so rarely brings her hypothetical other friends over, that is to say she never does. So how long a while have you known her?”

Jason is unable to read your mother’s eyes to tell whether what is fuelling her words consists of the near universal parental desire to ship their children off with a satisfactory suitor and wave them au revoir as they set sail to the baby-making factory, or if instead it is a pure malice and hatred she feels towards Jason on account of what he can only imagine is the sheer gall she must believe he possesses to come to their house on such short notice. Jason cannot decide which scenario he prefers.

“Well uhh, one thing I should-“

Jason is saved by the metaphorical bell your caterwaul came just in time to represent.

“-oh uhh I should go make sure your daughter is okay.”

“Oh no now Jason there’s no need to burden yourself Jason sweetie, Eustace will go on and check up on her won’t you dear?”

“No I won’t, I’m dicing onions.”

“Eustace is right Miriam, I wouldn’t want to see your culinary pursuits be delayed after all, please ever so kindly let me take care of things.” Jason is doing a killer impression of Alfred here as he says this.

“See Miriam, let the boy take care of it.”

Your mother opts to say nothing and but to instead continue filling the eponymous pot with a variety of spices, saying nothing being much more characteristic of your mothers regular attitude. Your mother not saying anything you would know is her way of implying that the conversation is so below her that there isn’t even a reason for her to have to respond to such banalities. You are unsure if she realises how childish this makes her look.

One of the many stray moments which could have caused a screech of soreness, eventually does so. And so here you sit, or more accurately lay, in the fetal position grasping your side, a shadow of the many boxes above you covers your midriff.

Incredibly, your display case did not contain the sought-after dishes, them having needed to be moved to make way for your very important middle-school textbooks, and as such a great deal of a journey was set before you involving the itemized examination of a great deal of boxes indeed. You remember your friends asking if maybe they could have a the sleepover at your house and you remarking that the problem was your room looked like the warehouse from Raiders of the Lost Ark, and none of them having a clue what movie you were talking about. Your ribs still hurt.

You hear footsteps from the hallway, at a much faster pace then your parents could manage were they to apply for a 200m sprint even. Your parents are fat and old and slow and lazy, as you are well aware. Jason Todd appears at your door, his use of the doorframe as a speed bump makes an audible drung.

“Hey is everything alright.” The glib that characterises his voice is nowhere to be heard, and so you have no reason to assume he is not being genuine. Looking down at you past your bed. You realize as you turn around on your tailbone to face him that your bed has My Little Pony Twilight Sparkle sheets.

“Oh uhh no, I’m on the ground in overwhelming pain.” You say, bringing no attention to your Twilight Spark bed sheets.

“Did you find the plates? I think your parents might end up at each other’s throats if you don’t get them soon.” Jason says brining attention to the argument happening in the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about them, this is actually their equivalent of silence, I didn’t even notice myself, it’s like a background hum, a fact of the environment.” As you say this you turn back around away from Jason so as not distract yourself from Jason’s very blue very captivating eyes.

“Alright, but did you find the plates?”

“No but I have opened up three of the umpteen cardboard boxes they might be in. Could you help me up or otherwise help me open the remainder?”

“I don’t see why it’s suddenly my responsibility to pull you up from this hole you’ve placed yourself in.”

“Jason for-“

“I’m just pulling your leg, just messing with you, just a little jest from me to you.” You hear Jason snort, you do not return the snort.

Jason walks his way towards you, stepping like a dog made to wear a pair of dog-sized shoes around your very messy very embarrassingly messy oh god why are there bras hanging from the vanity and why’re the already embarrassing Twilight Sparkle bed sheets so crumpled are up and unseemly. Standing over you as if you were his latest murder victim, Jason pulls you up by your chest and so now here you are being held within Jason’s arms.

You try not to stare too intensely at Jason’s whirlpools of eyes, an infinite glistening chasm of sorrow and yet eyes which are so captivating you could stare and in fact are staring for far too long, each pupil palpable as a Barnet Newman painting.

None of this is to comment of the context the eyes lay within, being a face neoclassical in its beauty, with a chin that could cut through numerous blocks of concrete and a mouth which you realize is probably about to scorn you over starting for so long. This all to say that the eyes are given even more sorrow and even more intensity by nature of their chosen face-home.

Jason Todd realizes as soon as he grabs you from your sides that he has likely caused your abdomen to go through its motions, and but yet as it happens, this does not happen, your ribs do not knock on your nervous system’s doors demanding fair representation, you are simply in Jason’s arms.


	7. Dinner Part 2?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wrote this as the end cause I was having a bad time, so I thought I'd end with a bang. But I wanted to write more which is why this isn't the last chapter. So enjoy this *non-canon* little piece of little piece of text over here.

Jason sits, that is to say, Jason stands in a predicament then. Him having only just now been reacquainted with his knowledge of you very much severe rib pain, triggerable with but a mere touch, the veritable claw-machine claw like maneuver Jason has just utilized on your sides to grab you up from the floor should and likely is currently causing within you what can only be described as a Pearl Harbor onto each of your internal organs.

This as such makes Jason hesitant to let go of your sides in fear of you falling back into the pool of other soft toys the claw machine metaphor would have you return to, that is to say, fall onto the floor and crack your skull and perhaps some other bones.

And but so then it is this which causes Jason to continue holding you in his arms, arms which you are enthralled in, their warmth on your side almost paralleling the warmth of your My Little Pony Twilight Sparkle bed sheets.

“Jason, I love you goddammit, I love you with all my heart after having met you 10-15 minutes ago. I have stopped suffering and learned to love you Jason Todd!” You pronounce the learned as ‘learnt’.

“Oh you stopped suffering from your ribs, I can let go then.”

As your mouth moves to make way for your imminent begging towards Jason Todd for him to please dear god to do anything other than let go of you, the grasp his hands held on your sides loosens. This very shock causes you once again to lose your footing and fall to the floor, so quickly and with such prudence as to slam your head into the sassafras parquet.

The slam on the floor alerts me, your sister who you did not tell Jason Todd about and who does not like to be in photos on Faceboook to be made aware of your existence in the room.

“Oh my god Y/N WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU OKAY?!?!?!?!?!? ANS WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?!?!?!!!?”

“I’m Tason Jodd……...... I mean I’m-“  
“SHUT THE FUCK UP, Y/N SIS ARE YOU OKAY?!?!?!??!”

You vomit from your mouth as part of the seizure your cracked skull has taken you by the hand into. In your dying vomit-filled breaths you tell me this story. I marry Jason Todd the end.


	8. Dinner Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is canon, the last one was not canon.

Your eyes find Jason’s and continue to undergo a detailed inspection of his each and every feature. All the meanwhile then, there stands Jason Todd unable to let go for what he realizes are in fact a variety of reasons; due to the now existent guilt Jason Todd feels for having done to your ribs what he believes is the equivalent of what the Joker did to his face, Jason is hesitant to let go of you and by doing so enable your falling to the floor and possibly the cracking of your head on the display cabinet’s corner. And so Jason as such holds onto you even more grip-fully, this grip-in-search-of-safety however causes Jason to feel even guiltier over causing your ribs to throw a tantrum, causing him to hold onto you for even dearer life in fear of your escape to the floor, and so on.

And so you are still in Jason Todd’s arms, your faces close enough for you to see the peach-fuzz of his skin react to your breaths, your breaths which are getting heavier as you realize the situation you are in, and your breaths which are getting all the more audible, what with you being hesitant to say anything that would bring any attention to the current situation, which you realize is a situation which if Jason at all reacted to you might just die to death of embarrassment. Your breath also most likely smells like vomit, you remember. Oh no your breath smells like vomit, dear god what are you going to do. You can’t just breathe away from the Jason he’ll surely notice and that might make him wonder why you’re breathing away from him which will no doubt trigger his nose to the day old half-digested-cucumber-sandwich-breath.

Jason realizes he should probably ask if you’re okay.

Jason asks if you’re okay, you feel every syllable on your cheeks. You don’t notice that his breath also smells like vomit.

“Oh yeah I’m alright, hey why are you here anyway, shouldn’t you be having what I’m sure is a great and very fun for you conversation with my parents? What a horrible guest you must be to leave my parents without even considering what a terrible guest that makes you.”

“I should have left you on the floor.” Jason says this with such conviction you worry that your attempt at the little jest from you to him you just made to break the tension didn’t translate properly. And so you choose to say nothing.

“…”

“…”

Oh no he’s also saying nothing.

“…”

“…”

Jason you realize, still hasn’t let go of you.

Jason as it turns out, did not mean his ‘I should have left you on the floor’ to be a snide remark in response to the sarcastic little snippet of dialogue you delivered to him, in fact Jason was far too inside his head to even realize you had said anything at all. His inability to pay attention was likely due to him realizing that there is a good chance the reason you have as of yet not reacted to the supreme waves of pain Jason has caused onto you, is due solely to his act of still having his hands on your sides.

Jason has been in his fair share of shankings, spankings, stabbings, sword-fights, truly, the list could go on, but needless to say Jason has full well experienced the complications of abdomen pain, and as such he realizes that the list of reasons that exist for howling in the middle of the night in agony is very long indeed, and so it’s fully possible that the act of grabbing your sides was harmless, and yet the act of letting go would surely spell the end of your life, figuratively speaking.

And so all of this is to clarify, that by ‘I should have left you on the floor’ Jason of course meant that if he did not pick you up in the way he did, there would be far less of an issue currently going on.

“Jason uhh, are you going to let go of me.” You say out loud to Jason, who’s current face resembles you imagine that of man having a heart attack. You realize you hope his answer is no.

“Uhh, I’m not sure that’s for the best.”

“Oh, alright, well then, do you mind if I rest my face on your chest, my legs are getting tired and it’s the next best thing to sitting down.”

“Oh, sure.”

And so you do.

.

..

…

You finally become aware of what you just said.

Why did you say that?

What the hell.

Jason Todd of course doesn’t exactly mind the fact that your face and his chest are separated only by one layer of t-shirt, if he thought about it then perhaps he’d realize that in fact yes, he did mind, this was quite the scenario, ‘oh me oh my’ he might think, ‘what a situation I find myself in, this certainly is something that yes, I Jason Todd, find enthralling indeed, oh god oh fuck.’, as it happens however Jason is instead busy being reassured of the fact that at least under this angling of your body, was Jason to let go of you, you would fall onto him as opposed to onto the skull-cracker. And so once Jason finishes taking a total of 3 second being reassured of your relative safety, he finally has time to realize that you are resting on his chest, oh god oh fuck.

Allow this brief interlude for a short history of Jason Todd’s love life.

As a child, Jason never learned about appendixes and soul-bonds and what not due to being asleep during the lesson after having been so extremely busy the night before stopping Kolonel Kool with Bat and Plastic man, which the events leading up to that are an ordeal in of themselves, but needless to say Jason was not happy about it. His only knowledge of the subject comes from discussing it with his second girlfriend.

Jason’s first romantic endeavour was a two-week long ordeal with Raven, but neither he or Raven ever acknowledge the fact that it ever even occurred and in fact have seldom ever spoke to eachother afterwards. 

Jason’s second romantic scenario then came many years later with none other than Cassie “Wondergirl” Sandsmark, who was only really dating him to get over her break up with Conner “Superboy” Kent, something anybody with more than 0 experience could have seen from a mile away, and in fact they, that is to say Tim Drake, did, and so Tim goes and does the right thing, tells his older brother from another mother his 2 cents, and so and so Jason proceeds to give what can only be the most patronizing thing Tim had ever heard from somebody who wasn’t Batman; Jason proceeding to talk about passion and quote ‘adult’ experiences and whatnot, all this happening while Tim tries to hold in his laughter over the very concept of Jason having any ground to stand on with regards to relationships. And so ignoring all of Tim’s advice, Jason proceeds to, not even a week later, get his heart broken when Wondergirl breaks up with him upon hearing about Superboy’s death; Jason not even being given the chance to go and place himself in the consoling understanding boyfriend position. Needless to say this all burned Jason out for a while w.r.t the pursuits of passion, only then for two days later Jason to be burned via explosion in the whole Joker ordeal.

So then this leaves us with the Jason Todd we have today, who realistically, knows about how to act around people he is attracted to about not at all actually. This is important to clarify since, it so happens, a great deal of people in Jason Todd’s personal life let him know that a great deal of people are wet for Jason Todd, so to speak; this is due to the fact that Jason’s default personality is around about the most attractive smooth-talking snarky-in-a-good-way well-paced hot-and-bothering thing one could imagine, plus he’s hot. Jason here therefore acts inconsistently not because of some sort of inconsistency in this story I am being told, but instead due to an ongoing synthesis between the thesis of Jason’s subconscious very suave nature, and the antithesis of Jason getting in his own head and ruining everything.

Jason basically has no idea what to do again, having just now realized that in fact yes there is something that can be constituted as romantic about him holding you in his arms, he is worried that letting go might have a whole deluge of consequences not even related to the possible pain. He wouldn’t of course want to let go and make it seem as if there was some sort of disgust he felt towards your resting carapace. Perhaps however, he realizes, you’re asking to sleep on his chest was in fact a suave bit of espionage on your end to decipher whether or not you would be so rude as to stay holding onto a woman as she is preoccupied with rest, and if perhaps this is some sort of test to see if he is chivalrous enough to let go. And blah blah blah whatever I get the idea Jason is stuck in his own head and you’re stuck in his arms.

Suddenly you realize that a good solution to stopping yourself from what is essentially cuddling with Jason, in fact you realize, a good way to not even acknowledge the fact that you’re currently cuddling Jason would be to keep looking for the plates. This will also stop you from having to even wonder why you said you wanted to sleep on Jason, this way you won’t even have to think about what unholy force compelled you to say those words without so much as a thought.

You focus very hard on not accidentally saying anything other than ‘Hey we should look for the plates.’ You try very hard to say exactly that.

“Hey your cosy chest is warm.”

There’s Freudian slips, and then there’s this.

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh-“Jason is dead, dying of these torturous interrogation techniques you are seemingly applying unto him.

“I-I mean, we should look for the plates actually” whenever you say something you feel completely sober, and then the words that come out of your mouth are a coin flip between what was intended and something you would never even ever want anybody dear god least of all Jason to hear.

“Oh uh alright well what about this box here?” says Jason out loud to you who hears him say it. As he says this his hand hangs in the air pointing at what is no doubt a cardboard box.

“It’s alright, that’s what’s about that box there.” you say this as you stare into Jason’s arms and not to where they are pointing, which, it would be hard to blame you considering what Jason Todd’s arms look like he spends twelve hours a day opening and then closing and reopening doors.

So you and Jason go grab the cardboard box, place it onto your Twilight Sparkle bed sheets (right on Twilight’s horn, the source of her magical power), and open the folds. Specifically you open it while Jason stand slightly to your right.

The fuzzy-flaky-dry-skin texture of the cardboard sucks, you hate how it feels on your fingers, I hate it too.

As you open the box you are welcomed by what looks like a blank 200gsm A2 paper, and it takes sun rays piercing through the almost-opaque paper for you to realize what a terrible horrible awful scenario you’ve just found yourself in.

Jason standing behind your right shoulder is unable to properly get a look inside the suspected square ceramic-storage-space, and so he asks you what you see.

You don’t respond both in fear of instead saying something you extremely don’t want to say and also due to you being paralyzed with embarrassment over what you’ve just found.

Jason curves himself around you and pulls the box towards him, and so he starts unpacking the box as you stand there in silence, him assuming you must be trying to repress your rib pain, and begins unpacking, and then Jason unpacks the first thing and metaphorically dies of embarrassment.


	9. Dinner Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to sure how I feel about these last 2 chapters tbh. I think they sort of feel like a bit like nothing happens, I mean things happen don't get me wrong, I'm just worried the pace is too slow. And that there's not enough romance etc. Hopefully this will be resolved next chapter

It is an A2 200gsm print distributed by WFIPM and Consumer Products Inc. a subsidiary of Wayne Foundation Intellectual Property Management Limited a subsidiary of The Wayne FoundationTM. On a gargoyle stand Batman and Robin themselves, Batman facing stage left staring off into the middle distance, then stands Robin coming up to around belt height and looking as old as your younger sister who doesn’t like to be in Facebook photos, Robin who’s hands seem to be doing their best impression of a DJ scratching invisible vinyl disks.

It can only be described as a terrible fate that this was the only picture of high enough quality ever taken of Jason Todd’s Robin to ever make it onto a poster, and also that Jason was like, young enough to think that trying to look like a character off the cover of Jet Set Radio was a good idea. And also of course that Jason is currently in a room with you and this poster both in it.

All the while your mind was a cabbage patch of terror at realizing how similar the dreamy person in the poster you forgot you hid in this particular cardboard box is to the person you’re standing to the left of. This being an even greater embarrassment considering all the fantasizing and general depraved thoughts this particular image brought into creation in your mind-zone-region-space-palace.

In this aforementioned cabbage patch of terror, you have no choice but to meticulously harvest each individual patch of cabbage, stare into the cabbage which you have meticulously grown over what could be anywhere between 80 to 180 days, and just start biting into it. Each bite fills you with more potential dread. What if Jason says something about this poster? What could he even say you wonder until you take another bite into your first cabbage, when you are made crystal of that perhaps he might say “Buahahahahahaaaaaa… wow you’re so immature and sad and pathetic, that I, Jason Todd, am no longer even remotely interested in being around you even a little bit, and will now escape from this here window and leave you with the grueling task of explaining my disappearance to your parents who are still arguing in the kitchen. Heeheehaahaaa ha you suck.”

Once you finish chewing on this current piece of cabbage you swallow it into your now very upset stomach. In this scenario you are left with no choice but to do the explaining to Jason about how actually this was a really old poster and you know it was back when you had a really embarrassing phase a long long long 2 or 3 years ago, and that basically you definitely don’t find the idea of a big strong man keeping you and everybody else in Gotham safe whilst simultaneously being carefree and enjoyable enough to strike a silly pose for cameras hot at all no sir nope you in fact never even slightly get off on the idea nu-uh no nope noperino nope-a-dope-dope no way hose.

But before you can your mouth just chomps down on more of the lapsarian cabbage, so you imagine Jason perhaps instead saying “Wow this is so adorable how like a young little baby girl worthy of patronization you’re into children’s superheroes, wow that’s pretty adorable in the same way a young innocent child or an aromantic rubber duck is adorable. I have no sexual interest in you whatsoever.” This raw cabbage tastes even worse and you think you can feel the gaps between your teeth getting further and further filled with shredded cabbage, lingering in twain your mouth ensuring their bad taste has a long leering long lasting legacy.

You hope you manage to this time tell Jason “Oh god please don’t look at that it’s really not dish-related at all!” and not say for example “Wow Jason you know now that I think about it you’re basically as attractive as the superhero Robin is in this poster of mine you found.” By accident.

You realize you just said the latter out loud.

Jason goes from already being beet red to finally getting into shades of vermilion, and you shortly follow suit.

Jason is a pretty smooth talker, almost as smooth as his legs which he shaves for added aerodynamicism and also it makes putting on his work outfit easier; but even he would struggle to deliver lines of such a horny calibre with such a straight-laced, enthusiastic face right into their victim’s mug. You are essentially destroying Jason’s mind which, to be fair, is not an unfamiliar situation for Jason, and but yet it is nevertheless very difficult for him to deal with your horn-dog words and the utter crushing force of what is essentially baby photos of him which you have stashed in a cardboard box.

Jason wonders if perhaps you planned this all along, to lure him into your house under the pretense of parental pressure, only to completely and utterly demolish his mind and make him into a wreck, perhaps in order to ensure some seedy surreptitious slave-trade or otherwise goes unnoticed by him. As such Jason must eat the cabbage of shame with regards to being defeated. After all, what is any man to do against a relentless onslaught of pure, genuine interest in them.

“Please dear god stop, I can’t handle it, my mind is overheating just trying to put what you’re saying to me out of itself long enough for me to plead with you to for heaven’s sake stop being so thirsty out loud. Your horniness is utterly shattering I can’t tell if this is real or if you’re truly a master class actor, I don’t know anything anymore. I also don’t know how you figured out I used to be Robin, but that’s not even, I’m not even interested, I just need you to spare me this torment. Please.” Jason essentially is prostrated before you as he says this.

“Wait whoa whoa w-whoa wuhwuhwah wait there’s wait hold on are you telling me that you’re whoa are you telling me that you’re, that you’re Robin, whoa whoa here whoa now you’re telling me you’re Robin from the Justice League?”

“What? No I’m the Red Hood I used to be Robin until I-”

“Wow that’s really hot you’re really hot.” You feel exhausted from consistently trying and failing to not say sentences like these. You can feel yourself being your own maître-de up to the next course of cabbage.

“I just got on my knees and specifically begged you not to do that. It was really difficult to do that by the way there’s basically no room in your bedroom for walking let alone kneeling.”  
  


You look into the metaphorical cabbage, its metaphorical pale exterior a perfect metaphor for its metaphorical taste, as you stare into it you realize it’s getting closer, and that your mouth is opening and getting its molars prepared for another bite. And so you begin to imagine Jason this time saying “You’re a terrifying woman and in general human being, I can’t believe that you’d be so callous and rude an unfeeling as to dismiss my heartfelt pleas and immediately go back to hostilely assaulting me with words of lust, which as it turns out I am apparently embarrassed by. You she-devil, you charlatan, I wish to have no further dealings with you. Have a bad day.” or perhaps your next bite reveals he might say “Yeah that’s right no need to blush I am in fact the infamous Red Hood, and so I Jason Todd shouldn’t need to explain why that so obviously puts me in a position of importance so far above that of your own. You’re like a worm, I save you from a Riddler hostage scenario or maybe perhaps a Hugo Strange experiment you were involuntarily applied into; but at the end of the day I only see you as a worm to be saved from cars. You are not a romantic prospect, you are a vital part of the soil cycle.” And actually this sour cabbage bite in particular reminds you that Jason just claimed to be the Red Hood again, and you thought that was a joke the first time he said it, so hold on wait was he actually not joking and did he just tell you his alleged secret identity the first time you met him? You thought of asking and would were it not for the involved risks, so you choose to say nothing at all.

“Hey I’ll stop being so provocative if you have sex with me right here on my Twilight Sparkle bed sheets.” you apparently say, out loud, to Jason Todd.

Inside you there are two wolves. One wolf is currently eating cabbages and hating every bite. As it happens, whilst wolf A was busy going emotionally vegan, the henceforth to be known as wolf B, went and took over the duty of actually saying words. In a way, you could say that the wolf of desire, this wolf is the reason you are seemingly unable to control your own words. And so as you (wolf A) sit there in your garden overalls and step through your cabbage patch systematically eating cabbage after cabbage. Whenever you say something you’d rather not, you see another cabbage delivery truck deliver a whole patch of cabbages for you to dine on, and you hear wolf B giggle. And so that settles it! You’re not going to take these onslaughts by wolf B sitting down!

So you walk to the voice room, where wolf B has spread themselves over the room, cigarette butts littering the mahogany desk upon which your metaphor for talking sits. And you voice your opinion to wolf B, you tell them how it’s ridiculous that they get to have all the fun saying whatever they want and you have to reap the consequences and suffer. Wolf B, amazingly, seems to actually care about what you have to say, they sit there and truly listen to your complaints. It’s actually shocking how much thought they seem to be giving to your words.

And so with a small pause, wolf B says how in truth, they’ve only been doing this since they though it’s what you wanted, and they regale how they in fact have been suffering too, watching from the side-lines as you say horribly embarrassing things, and eat horrible cabbage as a result. And in fact it saddens wolf B to hear that his efforts, which sure admittedly they were enjoying, did not in fact help with your condition, as such wolf B asks you for advice on how to get Jason Todd to sleep with you.

You at first are hesitant to admit to wolf B that you of course would very much like to sleep with Jason Todd, but wolf B, also being in your head, is more than aware of this fact, and with him being another manifestation of your wishes, along with yourself, he of course asks if perhaps, from now onward, they could work together in order to try and achieve what they both wish for.

And it’s like somebody has just dropped the key to your prison cell into your room, and despite knowing that there will be much more work involved in the pursuit of being able to spend a great deal of time perhaps the rest of your life with Jason Todd, you feel as if you are finally able to stop suffering and begin to do so.

And so wolf A and wolf B worked happily ever after, and did so by first attempting to solve the current crisis of having perhaps been too forward with your desires.

Jason by the way, as you were having this internal Hegelian dialectic, was busy nearly foaming at the mouth at the sheer gall you he assumed you must possess for being able to be so forward. Jason is crestfallen.

“Hey hey come on now, I was just teasing you, that’s all I was doing and nothing more, come on anyway that’s just an old poster I forgot it existed to be honest, you can keep it if it’d make you feel better. But were the plates there anyway?”

“No it was just a cavalcade of sex toys.”

“Oh darn they uh uhhh oh, so well then we should look for them in the next box. Hey come on lazy get up from the floor you lazily-boned lazybones.”

“I mean like your parents are maybe 7 meters away they’d probably hear us having sex, why would you want that to happen you succubus.”

“OH come on I can’t believe you’re still focusing on all those total jests I was making, look I’m sure the plates will be in the next box we open.”

“Wait so, wait, so you were just joking, haha you got me good you really fooled me haha.”

“I’m glad you like me you are a hot chunk of beef who I want to sleep with.”

This actually was a Freudian slip, you meant to say “I’m glad, you like meat? You can have my hot chunk of beef when we come to eat it.” ‘It’ referring to the pot roast.

Jason finally groks that perhaps a change of strategy might help him not be fully assaulted as earlier by your wolf B, since you seem to just, keep doing it.

“I see how it is, as it happens *I* was just messing with you, and in fact *I* am completely and totally not bothered at all with all of these extremely suggestive comments you keep making, in fact, I’m so well put together over them, that I’d like to hear more of them, so actually, could you comment suggestively about me, in bed?”

Jason, barely keeping it together, wonders if perhaps this statement has made it clear enough that he definitely will no longer be attacked by you being horny at him, and but he is a bit worried that in the context of all the grovelling he essentially did earlier, maybe perhaps hmm, maybe perhaps he should go even further to fully cement that to you that Jason Todd is not one to take things so strongly no sir.

Jason Todd considers his options standing in the room with you, as it happens he remembers a scenario he once heard occur between Tim and Cass when they wherein they were both in a room together and Cass was really annoying Tim and so Tim wanted to be left alone and but Cass was of course being annoying and not leaving; so of course the solution Tim came up with was to start taking off all his clothes and as expected Cass went screaming out the room about what a weirdo Tim was, leaving Tim in peaceful, quiet, filthy garbage room as always, in particular Jason remembers seeing the same licked empty nutella jar sitting on Tim’s shelves for what might actually have been years.

At any rate, Jason considers that if this strategy worked for a 12 year old Tim Drake, it should surely work here as well.

“Well hey, why wait? Let’s go to bed for a while wouldn’t you say?”

And so Jason starts taking off his Nike KD 12’s while staring at you with a sort of inquisitive well-so-what-are-you-gonna-do-about-it-huh sort of look in his eyes. A look which you imagine is very hard to keep straight considering Jason is currently balancing on one leg and de-lacing his shoes with both his hands in a pose which comes off as a ballerina presenting an engagement ring to you mid pirouette. It’s almost as if Jason is mocking how inflexible and clumsy you are with how thoroughly he is contorting his body to untie a shoe. These contortions as it happens can’t help but help draw your eyes to each and every ligament on Jason’s herculean torso, thighs, and so on; that is to say, you’re staring at Jason again.

And Jason is still staring at you, so this has become a staring contest where you stand like 2 or 3 feet away from Jason as he swaps feet to of course take the other shoe off, in a technique which seemed like it belonged in a top-class circus act, which would make sense since Dick was the one who taught it to him. And as it happens the awkward silence of Jason’s laces being undone and your parents still arguing in the background is killing you so you say something.

“Wait so what are you doing?”

“What does it look like, I’m doing, I’m taking my clothes of so that we can definitely go to bed together, and so you can say very explicit things to me in bed. Why, are you saying that you would rather not sleep with me despite the heavy amount of innuendo you have sprinkled into most of your sentences? Cause if so I want to stress that I don’t wish to pressure you, and that you should remember that it’s your choice what activities you choose to do and I want to clarify that it’s not my intention to pressure you or anything like that, it just seems to me like asking you to come into bed with me would benefit the both of us. But anyway, are you coming?”

Jason finally gets the second shoe off his heel and starts to look like he’s about to take off his shirt.

And but before he finishes doing so, you’re presented with a fork in the road. Do you say yes, even thinking of what might occur afterwards is basically the same as ordering a bulk shipment of cabbage patches with express delivery. On the other hand, you don’t know if you’d ever even ever be able to forgive yourself for saying no, that’s like winning the lottery and being too afraid of getting in a car accident on the way to collecting your winning to actually go.

Inside you there are still 2 wolves, and as one could imagine, wolf A is the main stickler here, them being the one who would have to eat the cabbage where they to say “yes” and have bad things happen. Wolf B tries to reassure to wolf A that as they are both well aware, the benefits of saying “yes” can be so overwhelming high that it would basically make up for all the horrible awful things that otherwise constitute your life. And wolf A isn’t exactly unreceptive to this fact, it’s just that wolf A can’t exactly take wolf B’s words at full effect considering wolf B doesn’t exactly have anything to lose here, they eat no cabbage. Wolf B as it happens, is more than well aware of the unfair dichotomy which exists between them, and deep down, wolf B does feel a great deal of what is essentially survivors guilt over having to watch wolf A agonizingly eat mountains of cabbage over the years. And so wolf B decides that enough is enough, and promises to wolf A that if the unthinkable happens, that they (wolf B) will help eat the cabbages.

Wolf A also now feels guilty, the guilt of a parent not being able to tell their child how the child’s mother died in childbirth, for fear of what it would do to the child to know this. For what wolf A has been hiding from wolf B this whole time, is that wolf B, has no molars, they cannot eat even an ounce of cabbage, for they would surely throw up, and since wolf B is emetophobic that would surely cause them to pass out. And but, so motivated was wolf A by the self-sacrificing nature of wolf B, wolf A was so overwhelmed with appreciation that they kissed wolf B right there on the spot.

And as the sun set on the cabbage fields of your mind, wolf A and wolf B stood there, holding hands and ready to take on the challenge presented before them.

And so you say “Yeah alright actually that sounds fun.” To Jason, and begin going through the motions which one would associate with beginning to undress. But crucially you wait to begin until Jason takes off his shirt so that you can stare at a shirtless Jason.

It’s a beautiful sight.


	10. Dinner Part 4

Looking at Jason Todd’s chest is ridiculously indulgent, you feel as if you’re going on a vacation to Disneyland promised by your parents in exchange for good grades from an exam you have as of yet not taken. And so you can’t help but feel guilty for looking at every pec and lat in extreme detail. It’s like if Michelangelo sculpted a washboard. It’s like if an oiled red pepper started doing reverse crunches, it’s like a concrete mould of a very attractive man. His chest glistens in the overhead lighting, covered as it is in sweat, singular globules of sweat glittering it like empty nutella jars glitter Tim Drake’s bedroom. As Jason pulls the back of the shirt up and over his back, his spine curves and bulges in such a manner as to be very attractive indeed, Jason’s back muscles being the thin sheet of cloth his spine uses as a ghost costume.

While you were busy looking at everything being put on display to you, Jason’s big head is stuck in his t-shirt. Once his 99.8% cloth prison has been broken out of, he realizes that you’re doing your best to make him feel like a piece of meat. This along with the heat of being stuck in a t-shirt prison causes Jason to blush, you are too busy admiring his pectorals to notice.

Jason at this point also realizes that perhaps the way a 12-year-old Cassandra Cain would react to a likewise-year-old Tim Drake taking off his clothes is not the same way you might react to Jason taking off his. This also came with Jason recollecting how in past relationships, him taking off clothes has actually caused things to become more romantic.

Uh oh.

Jason as such considers his options, if he is to back down on his current bluff that would make it far too evidently clear that he is very much vulnerable to your attacks of saying what you think. On the other hand, if he continues to undress and get into bed with you, that might cause the thing Jason is deathly afraid of happening but also desperately wants to happen, but also might die were it to happen, but also cannot help but want to happen, to happen.

As such Jason is at a crossroads, or at least he is until he sees that in fact you are also currently at the moment undressing yourself as well.

Jason is uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, overwhelmed by the fact of what’s happening in front of him at the moment.

You are very attractive.

Jason has gone from vermillion to a shade of scarlet. He tries very hard and fails very hard at not looking at you like as if you were some piece of meat. Luckily for Jason you are too busy rib-eyeing him up to notice.

You are as such both essentially entranced in each other’s bodies, which is once again a very understandable occurrence considering that Jason’s each and every curve leads into another, transforming him into a veritable seeing eye puzzle of well-built muscle, and also considering that as previously mentioned you are very attractive.

At some point you realize that you are showing off an excessive amount of skin, probably the most shown to another person since your birth at the Gotham South Easter Civic Health Centre and Penitentiary. As such red is added to the palette of colours constituting your face, and you realize that since putting your clothes back on would take too long the best way to perhaps stop yourself from being on display for Jason who has now taken off his jeans and as such has made his extremely well-built extremely juicy thighs out there for you to have no choice but to want to look at. This is in fact the first time that you even consider the fact that Jason might even perhaps even maybe take what might even be considered as pleasure in looking at you. You force yourself not to even at all consider how the thought of such a response makes you feel and instead decide to deal with one deep seated emotional desire at a time, and so work towards being in bed with Jason and do so by actually heading to your bed.

You get into bed with Jason and are pretty overwhelmed all things considered. I mean this is you that we’re talking about here, the closest scenario you’ve been in resembling to having a very attractive man in your bed was back when you still had your IKEA shark to snuggle with and hold tightly and cuddle and sometimes kiss just to imagine that you were holding on tightly to somebody who was actually there. And so comparatively speaking this is quite the step up, and as such with regards to experience you have no experience, wolf B is all bark no bite with regards to knowing how to actually escalate things. What a precarious scenario.

To clarify, you got into bed first, and so as Jason stood dumbfounded and wearing nothing but a pair of off-brand Calvin Klein boxers, his pelvic bone perfectly framed so as to leave barely anything to the imagination. And so despite getting into bed being Jason’s extremely misguided suggestion you are still the one to actually go on ahead and get under the covers first. Since your room is as big as Jason’s bulge is small you are forced then to shimmy around Jason in order to get to the only part of the room which facilitates access to the bed, this as it happens involves for a short moment having real-deal actually bona fide skin to skin contact with Jason Todd. It’s hard to say who is more totally and utterly overwhelmed by the feeling of touching another human’s body.

Sometimes Jason wakes up and just stares into the sink mirror for upwards of 20 minutes.

You probably haven’t touched another human being since you shook hand with your boss during promotion negotiation, which was pretty strange considering he’d decided vehemently not to raise your salary, so it caught the both of you off guard when you went in for a hand shake.

With regards to sensual human contact of course you are both desperately deprived thereof, and so even this brief rubbing of shoulders causes you to both crumble up and die.

You get into bed and then are staring at the far side of your room away from Jason and thus towards the tower of babel of boxes. Being crushed by the force of what has this entire time in fact been a weighted blanket wearing My Little Pony Twilight Sparkle sheets as some sort of ghost costume, you rest in bed, restless, on account of you being very anxious about the current situation as it is at the moment and how you have decided to take things further and actually undress and get into bed with Jason Todd like some sort of nympomaniacal psychopath.

Essentially the few moments between you getting into bed and Jason following you into bed give you all the time in the world to temporarily once again revert to your very worried very anxious modus operandi. Of course Jason is blind to this fact due to your face being turned from his. Nevertheless Jason has realized that since you are now yes in fact in bed he has been absolutely outmanoeuvred and has no choice but to follow suit. This realization is happening in the background of Jason’s mind of course since the foreground is busy being overwhelmed with the brief but palpable sensation of a soft human touch you unintentionally provided him.

Before Jason brings himself to realizing what a failure he has made himself into he decides to at least put all the clothes he’s taken off somewhere other than scattered over the floor, and so he goes and grabs them. But oh wow as it happens the moment he decides to bend over to get the clothes is the exact same moment you decide you can’t handle a moment of suspense more and turn around to see what’s taking Jason so long and are as such greeted with a top-tier blue-chip view of Jason’s sweaty back as he goes and grabs his clothes. Goodness me and mine what a view, you could hang 10 surfing on his rhombi, truly Jason’s back is a symphony of magnificent thews. It’s pretty hot not gonna lie.

You are pretty hot, that is to say sweaty, lying in bed, and as it happens Jason is about to come to terms with the fact that he is a fool and less intelligent than a 12-year-old Tim Drake, as signified by him turning around to get into bed, and so you not wanting to get caught ogling him into another dimension turn around in tandem and give Jason a view of your swaying long and curly locks of hair. And so here by your side Jason finally lays, underneath a noticeably heavy blanket, laying where’d you’d usually put your second IKEA shark to give support and warm your back as you slept clutching the first IKEA shark.

The story of how you lost your IKEA sharks is actually very tragic and could in fact go a long way in so far as explaining any psychological damage you might possess in the current day. To summarize it involved a bowl of chilli and you falling onto the bed with a bowl of chilli and you not being able to get chilli stains out of your IKEA sharks and your parents not being supportive of your decision to sleep with IKEA sharks which smelled of chilli every night for weeks and your parents clandestinely getting rid of your IKEA sharks and you crying yourself to sleep over your IKEA shark deficiency for weeks, clutching onto a decidedly non-shark shaped pillow.

Jason is now in bed with you, your hair entirely engulfing his face. You can just about feel his warmth starting to engulf your skin. There’s so many reason for both of you to be hot and also bothered that the mattress is a veritable furnace.

“…”

“…”

“…”

This goes on for a while

“…”

“uhhhhh” you meekly meek out.

“Yeah?” Jason says spitting your hair out of his mouth.

“So…. should I start?”

“Start wha-, oh, well I mean I guess it’s your choice.” Jason says, not sure if he’ll survive it if you go on ahead with the whole ordeal.

“Well okay then.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“I think your, wait, where should I start?”

“What are you asking me for?”

“Well it’s your body I’m about to objectify, so I think it’s only fair if you at least get a say in the order.”

“Well I guess either alphabetically or starting from the top down.”

“What about the bottom u-“

“I guess you could go chronologically, I think the heart is the first org-“

“Hey don’t interrupt me.” even though all Jason can see is your hair flowing from your roots directly into his mouth, he can still tell that you’re pouting.

“Oh okay.”

“So anyway I think I’m going to start from the bottom and then go up.”

“Alright good lu-.”

“Hey shush, I need to concentrate.”

“Oh uh okay.” As it happens, taking Jason’s ability to make casual conversation away from him social kryptonite, specifically the effects of gold kryptonite, which removes the ability Kryptonians have to process yellow sunlight, thus bereaving them of their special abilities.

“…”

“…”

Eventually you begin to whisper in hushed tones.

“Your legs are exceedingly smooth, they’re also so well built, like meaty cigars, I couldn’t smoke them if I tried. And they’re ever so flexible too, wherever did you learn to take shoes off like that, were you born into the circus?”

“No but actually since you mention it-“

“HEY! I’m not done.” You yell as loudly as you can while whispering.

“Sorry.”

“Anyway, your legs are very flexible is my point, gosh, I wonder out loud, what possible very expressive and perhaps even suggestive ways these legs might move I wonder? Maybe even you might even show me sometime, would that be something you are interested in perhaps?”

“…”

“Hey come on I’m done why aren’t you saying anything?”

“But I thought you said that I shouldn’t interru-“

“Yes I know but I finished this first one now and I want your input!” You are visibly flustered.

“I can’t review it.”

“Well why not?”

“Cause your hair’s in my mouth.”

“Oh.”

You turn around in the sheets and are now looking at Jason Todd squarely in the eyes, even in the dim light permitted by the heavy sheets it is still a sight to behold. His eyes are still very blue and still very captivating, you can feel the warmth of his face, it’s aura like a warm bath after a hard day of clicking the mouse button. And none of this is to mention how his chin looks strong enough to cut through numerous clay bricks.

“Hey you know that your hair tastes like plums?”

“Oh it’s this conditioner I use, it’s called-“

“Was a relative on your mother’s side part prune?”

You pout at Jason until his will breaks down and he realises what a terrible mistake he has made by interrupting you.

“*pout noises*”

“Oh sorry for interrupting.”

“Well now I’m never going to tell you what the conditioner was named, so though luck, have a though life.”

“Oh, but, I like plums.” Jason sounds audibly upset by this.

“Well anyway what did you think of the prose?”

“It was pretty weak. I mean I get that you had to start from my legs which you’ve only seen for maybe like 30 seconds, but like, what was that whole bit about them not being smoke-able all about? When people use ‘smoke’ in a vaguely lascivious sense, don’t they usually say something like ‘wow, that person’s ass is smoking’ or something along those lines, wherein the smoky essence of the body part is thought of as a positive?”

Every syllable that Jason conjugates bobs his head up and down in the sheets, the way he tracks his eyes around when he’s trying to think of the right word to use is so adorably captivating that you are captivated. When the proverbial hammer which represent an interesting point Jason Todd is making strikes, and his eyes find yours, you are nailed, so to speak.

What Jason is doing here as it turns out is the equivalent of putting some sort of automobile on a downward ramp into neutral gear, and allowing the dominoes to fall into the path of least resistance, like a house of cards, so that essentially instead of Jason being very anxious indeed about literally everything he is currently experiencing, he can just coast off of the moment that talking about words provides him.

“Whatever, what do *you* even know about prose anyway?” You sneer, in the most condescending voice you can manage.

“Well I don’t really think I’m an expert but I guess I do sort of read a bit I guess not that I’m like some sort of snoot that only accepts prose purple enough to be one of your mother’s distant ancestors, in fact actually recently I was reading The Godfather by Mario Puzo, and actually it was really captivating, and I mean obviously that shouldn’t be a surprise, no wonder it made for a great movie after all. But anyway like the reason I brought it up is that even though you could easily argue that the prose isn’t some David Foster Wallace-esque ordeal, it’s still an extremely captivating read and the flow of the paragraphs I find to be very enticing, the pacing is sublime you know? So I’m not gonna be like some stick up the ass sort of guy and pretend that your prose needed more obscure Victorian antonyms or anything like that. But so this actually reminds me of Nausea by Jean Paul Sartre, which has the distinction of-” this goes on for a while.

All the while, you sit transfixed, hypnotized and in a state of utter fascination with Jason’s face and also the words that are coming out of it. Now, when Jason is actually speaking and not just standing around like a kebab (with meat on it), he has somehow managed to become even more titillating to purvey, the words acting like Worcestershire sauce, each one marinating his juicy face even more thoroughly. And so purvey you do, staring into his eyes with such softness as to be very beautiful to Jason’s vision indeed, until Jason becomes self-aware of long he’s been going on for (this happens when he says “self-awareness”, for self-evident reasons), and also how cute you look, and desperately tries to stop this train he conducts.

“-I mean I’m not entirely sure if the fascistic overtones are intentional, but I don’t know considering the book came out in I think 1979 back when there was still a cold war, I don’t think it’s farfetched to assume a lack of self-awareness you know. Oh hey, wow, huh, uhhh, hey do you, are you, is am, is… am I wrong here?”

You are practically drooling right in Jason Todd’s face you are so transfixed.

“…”

“W-what I mean is, oh gosh, I hope I’m not boring you, hah, uhh, you should probably continue. I mean, like as in keep saying those that uhh, those hot pepper re- spice rack I mean spicy remarks I mean.” Jason trips and falls over himself to say, and things were going so well…

“Sorry what did you say? I can barely hear you, you’re so far away. Hey you should come closer so I can hear your warm chest.” This sentence was unsurprisingly written by wolf B.

“Oh umm, alright.”

You and Jason now are close enough as to have the tips of your noses touching.

“Alright well the next one is about your groin so are you ready?”

“Oh actually could we skip this one, maybe leave if for some time later, or never?”

Jason’s nose tickle yours as he speaks, you can feel his breaths on your check, and you can see and hear his lips move and watch them as they conduct out every plosive. His already enrapturing words are now so much more captivating that it is essentially impossible to say no to him.

“No I want to say this one now.” You hold back giggles.

Jason makes a face like he is preparing to get hit in the face with a crowbar, but not like a stoic sort of “you haven’t truly won” sort of face that’s different, he winces in fear is my point.

You are no longer able to hold back your giggles. They are very cute giggles as it so happens.

Jason sighs in relief and defeat.

“*Jason sighing noises*”

“Ok ok ok I’ll save it for later you big baby. But only under this one very specific very important condition.”

“Please dear heavens I’ll do anything.” Jason pantomimes begging, despite meaning it.

“Aaaaanything you say? Well, regardless, all I ask is that you tell me about a cool story involving you and Batman.”

“I’d rather not talk about work, and anyway I’m pretty sure that the ba-“

“Okay fine, that’s off the table, you are no longer allowed to cash in that cheque.”

“Alright, what-“

“Instead, you have to kiss me, on the lips, final offer.”


	11. Dinner Part 5

“So once, me and the bat man went to meet with this guy Santiago Vargas over licensing negotiations when all of a sudden Rex Luthor of all people sho-“

“Hey!!! You’re not allowed to tell me a cute anecdote, I *demand* that you kiss me on the lips.” You pucker your lips so as to present in an insultingly available manner, at the same time you look at Jason very sternly, like you just told him not to put his hand on the stove.

As a side note here, Wolf A is actually amazed at how it turns out you can just say what you want and yet the planet does not swallow you whole, truly, Wolf A intends on buying Wolf B a box of biscuits (as you can imagine, wolves, like dogs, lack the enzymes required to eat chocolates without dying). So essentially Wolf A and B opt to just go wild with it, throw caution to the wind, and just see what can be achieved.

“…” Jason is trying as hard as he can not to make eye contact.

“Also I demand that you talk.”

“Would you like some fries with that order?”

“Oh shush. I’m just picking up the slack that you’re leaving all over the floor, there’s veritable kilometres of slack all over the floor which I have no choice but to pick up myself. So maybe how about you start putting your back into it so to speak, huh?”

“I don’t follow.”

“What I mean is, Jason, how come you’re not saying very promiscuous impure things about me?”

“Oh, uhhh, well, I mean, what you need to understand is, well, it’s not that, what I need to make clear is, see well umm, I think uhh-“ Jason politicians like this for a while “-well I thought that you’d find it gross.”

“Now *I* don’t follow.”

“Uhh well, uhh, umm, it’s, well, you never made any sort of hints towards wanting me to do so.”

“Well I mean, Jason, we’re soulmates, we’re literally soulmates, which of course means we’ll be seeing each other quite a bit. I understand that, naturally, like me, you’ve never been soulmates with anybody before, but I feel as if there’s a few assumptions that can reasonably be made within such a framework; and so to me that sort of makes it implicit that we want to fuck each other’s brains out, figuratively speaking.”

“Uhhhhhhhhh, well I hadn’t considered that.”

“And wasn’t it pretty clear by the way I was blushing basically anytime anything romantic happened that I pretty obviously wanted to get into your pants?”

“Well I just thought you probably had the flu and so that’s why your face was red.”

“And isn’t the very fact that I started to make unchaste remarks about you a pretty clear sign that I would at least be open to the idea of you reciprocating them to me?”

“Well I just thought you were being polite.” Jason is now only moments away minutes away from having an unprecedented breakthrough with regards to his own self-actualization.

“Jason, are you, is, is everything alright?”

“Uhhhh…”

“…”

“…” Jason turns around, drawing even more attention to Jason’s lack of a response. And this after an explicit order from you.

“…” You could almost cry Jason’s lack of a response is so heart-breaking, and in fact, you at this moment have almost entirely given up hope, feeling as if all your efforts have Icarus'd you into having the unenviable task of having to deal with what seems to you to be an unrequiteful Jason Todd. But as you envision yourself struggling to hold back tears while trying to de-escalate the previously palpable sexual tension, Jason finally responds.

“I guess, well, to be honest with you, I think, well, I guess if I’m being honest, I’m scared Y/N. I’m really, truly terrified of where what’s going on right now is leading. It’s not even that I don’t like or enjoy it. In theory, the current scenario I’m in is fantastic, literally, a thing of fantasy. But, I just, I, I feel, I feel sort of like, like, I feel like, like the way I imagine other people must feel when somebody pulls a knife out on them, you know. It sort of feels like the ephemeral concept of an emotional connection, the sort of thing you hear other people talking about experiencing, the sort of thing you understand only in a sort of clinical way, it feels like that has just been made real, it’s like realizing that actors actually exist, and there they are, staring me in the face. And I don’t know, I guess, well to be honest, I feel awful for feeling this way, I feel like I should know better than to feel scared, I don’t know. Is, is this okay, Y/N is it wrong for me to feel afraid?”

You feel as if the person who you’ve been in bed with this entire time has just started to actually exist, and it’s likely you’d react less enthusiastically over Jason having announced himself as being pregnant.

You funnel this excitement through the medium of snuggling Jason very strongly indeed.

“Of course it’s okay Jay!” Being like most human beings significantly smaller than Jason Todd, your hug technique here involves you essentially spooning his torso and rocking left and right while trying to crush him with your thighs and elbows. Being the big spoon Jason of course cannot see your face, and yet your cheekbones are so elevated that the impression they make on the back of Jason’s neck could easily convince him that you just puffed Joker Venom, point being you are smiling.

This all being said Jason is at this moment astonished that enunciating the way he feels has caused you to react so positively. Additionally, he is in complete and utter overwhelmed overwhelmedness over your decision to affirm your positivity through what must be the most enthusiastic cuddle that Jason has ever experienced.

“You know I thought you’d react a lot worse to me telling you how much you terrify me.”

“Oh don’t be silly you big silly adorable silly heartthrob. I’m not even sure how to describe how happy I am that you just went ahead and told me what was up instead of leaving me to my thoughts and letting me assume I suck.” You whisper into Jason’s ear from his shoulder, your lips send soft caresses to his ear cartilage on every occlusive.

“Why would you assume you suck? You’re great…”

“You know I find it extremely attractive when boys are honest and upfront about their emotional wellbeing.”

“Now you’re just saying things in the pursuit of buttering me up.”

“No! It’s true Jason, you throbbing heart and soul of a welting Adonis of a man!”

“I’m going to give you heart failure you’re buttering me up so much.”

At this point you have nuzzled Jason so thoroughly as to have disturbed the sheets enough to transform you and Jason into a Twilight Sparkle burrito, with butter and plum filling.

“Anyway,” you speak softly enough at this point that it’s a miracle Jason has peak human senses “since you’ve been kind enough to let me in on your own personal feelings, it feels to me like it’s my personal duty to try and make things as easy as possible for you on your end, hmm?”

“What?” Your previous sentence was dripping in so much innuendo and fuelled by such a burning deep desire on your end that it threw you into a spin trying to reword it.

“I, uh, do you want me to be your tour guide through what you might otherwise be too scared to explore, so to speak?”

“Does that mean you’re going to relate less licentious soliloquys about my body?”

“Well, we’ll see about that. Jason, would you look at me for a second?” You place your soft hands on Jason’s surprisingly soft face, and slowly turn it to face yours, his body struggling to follow under the bondage provided by the Equestrian regent’s bed sheets. And so now here we enter a scenario wherein your face is once again staring at Jason’s, although now the tension is even more palpable due to the actual literal tension of the fabric the two of you are wrapped in. “So, Jason, are you comfortable with this the way it is right now?”

“Ummm I’d say so.”

“Good to hear.” Your hands are at this point caressing each and every bend and curve of Jason’s face, which as it happens is smooth not through sheer chance but due to a regimented moisturizing campaign. Eventually one of your fingers makes its way to Jason’s lips, which seemingly have also been warred on with skincare products. The presence of your finger on Jason’s lips of course causes them to gasp, in such an adorable way as to cause you to giggle, which, as in previously, is very cute.

“*Jason feeling a little bit embarrassed over having such a reaction to you caressing his lips noises*”

“It’s like kneading dough.”

“Huh?”

“Your face is like a soft pizza dough.”

“I think you skipped a few body parts?”

“Noooo…., what’s promiscuous about calling your face soft and doughy?”

“Well, it’s hard to think of a more attractive food than pizza.”

You snort, you don’t do that usually.

“Oh wow I don’t do that usually...”

“What are you talking aboummmmnmm” it’s as it happens very difficult for Jason to be inquisitive while your finger is pressing on his lips, since this causes him to essentially just imbibe your finger. You notice this and decide to let it be.

“No I mean as in I don’t usually snort.”

Jason is at this point almost as incredulous and embarrassed as he is turned on.

“I’ll be sure to spread the word. ‘Hey guys! Did you know that Y/N doesn’t usually snommmrnmbmmmnmbmm.” It’s possible that you might have perhaps intentionally cut Jason off through gagging him with your thumb, but either way this would be impossible to prove in a court of law.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You cup your hand over your ear in pantomime, which highlights to you how soggy you’ve managed to get it. Regardless, this phrase is essentially your passport to moving even closer to Jason’s face, such that now, instead of there being a whole 5cm of space between you, instead, your lips are touching.

“Uhh well uh u….” Jason at this point is unable to speak without his cupid’s bow brushing against yours. He is lexically paralyzed.

“Oh, so, what about this, is this comfortable, for you I mean?” you whisper.

“I, uh……….y-yes.”

“Say, Jason, would you mind telling me more about that book you mentioned earlier?”

“You mea- you mean Ways of…. Seeing by Jo-John Berger?”

“Yes! Oh Jason, I’d just love to hear everything you have to say about it! Please, don’t spare a single detail!”

You now sit back and wait for the fireworks.

“We…. Well……. The, a lot of the, there was a….. so you…… know how……. people s- there’s a-…. When you go and look at a………” Every syllable Jason attempts to pronounce ups the redness value of his face by at least 5 or 6 points. It’s extremely funny. Of course, you haven’t stopped smiling since Jason was all vulnerable and adorable with you, but this really pushes the envelope. Eventually Jason gives up on being a person who talks and instead interns as being a tomato with a crippling fear of moving their lips.

“Jason what’s wrong, don’t you want to tell me about this so called ‘paradigm shifting’ book?”

“…………………..no.”

“Oh that’s alright, you can tell me another time when you’re more comfortable. You wanna just be quiet for a while?”

“……yes.”

“Alright then.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

Ouija is a popular board game/horror trope/method for communicating with the dead wherein a group of people gather around a board and put their fingers on a so called planchette, and as they’re fingers hold onto this wooden isosceles, it begins to move. The way this works is that the natural jitters of the participant’s hands combine to move the planchette slowly but surely in one direction or another. This is then combined with the subconscious desire the group members each have to see the planchette land on a spooky (or funny depending on the group) response to the question proposed to the apparition, causing the group to subconsciously or maybe consciously move the planchette inevitably to its ephemeral message.

This process (minus the part where a spooky ghost haunts and/or murders a participant/household object) is generally the same process happening here with Jason’s and Y/N’s lips.

And so one movement leads to another and you and Jason are veritably kissing and making out, that is to say despite never formally agreeing to move your lips in such a way as to have yourselves be sharing spit, here you are doing so regardless.

It is likely a blessing that this is the road taken to arrive at Make-Out Point, since despite your wolves pushing things into overdrive with regards to assertiveness, it’s difficult to say how long they could have kept the ordeal going on for, and so it’s convenient that they get to nod off on the job and let Wolf C, the foreplay wolf, to basically oversee the current operations.

As for Jason, it turns out making out is a lot like talking, in that he is good at it when he does not think about it. Which, miraculously, he is managing to do, him instead focusing on how your hair is getting in his eyes.

An indeterminant amount of time from now, you are at home baking cupcakes for Jason and yourself. Which, as it happens, you are aware is cliché, nevertheless you couldn’t help yourself after having seen a cupcake recipe listed in your bookmarks. Upon seeing it, you felt actually almost melancholy empathising with the poor URL which must have been sitting there for years, yearning to one day be opened and utilized for the process of making what you at the moment worry might end up being far too zesty lemon cupcakes, namely on the account that the zest you grated is massive, and probably won’t dissolve adequately in the mixture, and oh no it might end up getting stuck in your teeth. But obviously it’s too late now to remove the zest from the mixture, since, being a mixture, everything is all mixed up.

And but so as you are contemplating whether to even add the far too zesty cream on top of the cupcakes or to just serve vaguely lemony muffins instead, Jason unlocks the apartment door. You can always tell when it’s Jason who’s about to open a door, since he always rest his entire weight (a hefty sum to be sure) onto the port of entry, and you can faintly hear the wood creak and moan at the agony being inflicted upon it as Jason fiddles with his keys.

Shockingly, Jason manages to open the door. This is especially shocking considering that, as you almost immediately notice, Jason has lost a great deal of blood. In fact, Jason, soon after having made your apartment façade look like that of the Egyptian Jews under Ramses II, has stained your mud room’s floor with blood, a blood room.

You leave your whisk in the zesty mixture, and go and check up on Jason, who is still laying on the floor. And like a beat in a horror movie, as you prepare to look down, you realize that the pile of blood and leather beneath you is in fact, 2 people. As soon as you realize this, these 2 people turn into a cloud of missed punches and knocked out teeth. Culminating in Jason, now adrenaline fuelled, grabbing onto the secondary blood stain, and ramming him into your wall, slightly bending the framed painting of The Virgin by Gustav Klimt.

While being tenderized by Jason, the stranger goes and says, “Are you making lemonade?” his sentence punctuated by his face being slammed on the wall.

“Jason! What’s- is this that guy you were telling me about!?”

“Yeah. Hey but did you make lemonade?”

“No I made lemon cupcakes.”

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”

“Oh my god Jason don’t even dare bring up-“

“I mean the last time you made cupcakes I aaaaalmost diiiiiied!”

“Those were your idea you FUCK!!!!!”

Your apron says Kiss The Cook, except the o’s in Cook are different pastries, and the i in Kiss is a pair of lips.

The strangers face has taken a texture similar to crushed ice.

“So, anyway, how was your day honey?”

“Jason we talked about this!!! Don’t call me honey!!!” Your face is now red with embarrassment as well as all the sweat you worked up manually whisking the batter earlier. If Jason had listened to you and bought the automatic mixer like you said this wouldn’t be an issue.

“Alright alright sorry, how was your day, sugarplum?”

“That’s only marginally better.” You pout.

“Alright alright I think he’s out of consciousness for now.” Jason says, finishing the curb stomping he was gifting the stranger’s maw.

“Wait aren’t you killing him? I’m pretty sure he’s dead Jason…”

“Nah don’t be ridiculous, he’s got a healing factor silly. He’ll be out for at least 2 or 3 days.”

“So do you but you still need me to stitch you up.”

“Hey actually it’s funny you mention that.” Jason says as his face goes papery and his body plummets to the floor.

For now however you are still kissing Jason Todd, frenchly.

The plum conditioner you use was actually a gift for your birthday.

As you lay in what is left of the free association of sheets and pillows constituting your bed, treating Jason’s lips as if they were a constrictor knot you are trying to convince to loosen up in such a way as to allow the knot to understand that you won’t think any less of it for being a length of twine instead; you can’t help but realize that Jason being mummified in your bedsheets makes it very difficult indeed for you to glance at his each and every muscle fibre.

You pull yourself away from Jason, which again, in the sheet wrap is very hard to do, and as you do you realize that Jason’s eyes have been closed the whole time, whilst yours have been open, staring very intently at Jason’s very red very yoked cheeks. Even though this is likely due to all the hair in Jason’s eyes and nose and throat, once he realizes that your eyes have been open the entire time, he is nevertheless extremely shy about it.

“Jason…”

“What did you do with your appendix anyway?” Jason says, desperately trying to distract himself from how many kisses he just gave (a lot of kisses).

“What? Uhh, I don’t know, anyway I wanted to ask-“

“You didn’t leave it in the hospital, did you? I’m pretty sure they’re gonna sell it if you just left it at the hospital” You glare very sternly at Jason “...oh sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Well what’s important is that you said sorry.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Uhh, so, what did you want to say?”

“Oh right, take off your pants?”

“Is, w-what are you, what’s, is, is that even a question?”

“Hmm, I guess it’s more of a demand… Will you take off your pants?”

“That’s uhh a good question.”

“…” The look on your face is sort of like the kind of smile people have on when they’re preparing to get their picture taken.

“Well, I mean to be honest even though I’m covered in all these blankets, sorry about unmaking your bed by the way, but like, I’m not that hot so it’s not really necessary, thanks for asking though.”

“…” Now the look on your face is the kind that people make when they realized they’re blinking in the picture that got taken.

“Will you take off *your* pants?”

“…” Now the look on your face is the kind that people make when the class bully just realized that she’s blinking in the school photo AND that the photographer refuses to take another picture because of something to do with union rates.

Earlier, while Jason was preoccupied with trying to suck the venom out of your lips drop by drop and no faster, self-actualization kept on occurring. Essentially, to summarize, it involved Jason realizing that there is a good chance the reason he was reticent to be emotionally intimate with you is because of overarching negative experiences regarding his previous romantic partner Cassie Sandsmark; which to summarize involved Jason subconsciously feeling as if it was his duty to be both an interesting person and sex toy and doormat for Wondergirl on her terms, never being emotionally looked after himself. And none of this was to even bring up the repressed memories Jason has over Raven. So again, summarizing, this culminated in Jason deciding that even if it is difficult, he should still try as best he can to engage with you in good faith under the current romantic scenario, and this essentially involves Jason being more overt about his wants in hopes of establishing a dialogue that could help both himself and you grow as people and so on and so forth. Thankfully you were smooching Jason long enough for him to finish having the internal dialogue required to come to such a healthy conclusion.

And so this is all to explain why Jason thought perhaps it was time to start picking up the aforementioned slack, one meter at a time.


	12. Dinner Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally didn't write anything for a few months. Oops, le un-epic accidental anhedonia moment had arrived. So this chapter is shorter since I needed to warm up my writing muscles, especially my writing anything even vaguely romantic or smutty ligaments. Anyway soon I'll be able to fully actualize dinner being a euphemism for oral sex. Thanks for reading.

“W-What I mean is, would you mind taking off your clothes first? I think it would help me be more comfortable about taking off mine.”

You at this point can’t believe what you’re seeing right in front of your eyes, in fact you are in utter ecstasy over the fact that Jason has seemingly opened up to the idea of being more overtly romantic with you, presumably after you showed him how detailed your lips were, giving him the taste for your blood so to speak. Regardless of your now inflated ego, you rush to kindly but firmly let Jason know that you are completely on board.

“Jason I disagree.”

“oh…”

“I think you *are* that hot!!!” you say and immediately afterwards go to prove by kissing Jason on his already very moist lips.

“Oh! So yes then?” Jason’s voice is slowly but surely less and less reminiscent of a stuttering teenager on prom night.

“Sir yes sir!” You say as you give a cheeky naval salute with an even cheekier smile on your face.

Filled with excitement juice on account of your excitement, you rush to make a big display of being excited over Jason presumably being excited over you taking your top off. And so, this big display involves taking your bra off really quickly, to show excitement. In fact your arms move so quickly for the latch behind your bra that by the time they realize that they are grabbing sheet fabric and not bra fabric, it is too late and they have already begun the motions of moving the latch up. These actions as applied to the sheets cause you to almost guillotine yourself in the non-Euclidian mess of cloth and fabric. Eventually, you realize the error of your ways and begin to move your legs to try in an attempt to stop them from being garrotted. This causes you to push against the mattress, which causes you to move away from the mattress (Q.V. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Newton's_laws_of_motion) and in doing so you find yourself hurtling towards the floor.

Jason being the one whose body was firmly planted onto the mattress with you on top of him, as such had a top tier view of your fourth imminent face plant today, and so therefor literally just grabbed you mid roly poly and planted you firmly onto the bed, which, as it happened, concluded in Jason now being on top of you.

It’s a bit difficult to understate the overwhelming force that Jason presents onto your body, despite Jason holding most of his own weight up himself, your chest still feels like 12 German Shepherds simultaneously decided to huddle together for warmth on top of it. Additionally, instead of you looking into Jason’s eyes, it almost feels like now, he’s looking into your eyes.

“Hey, by the way, how come you were so careful to ask me whether or not it was okay for you to kiss me, and whether or not to have our faces being smooshed together, but not when it came to you telling me to shut up?”

“Oh uhh, uh well uhh, you know uhh” shit, he’s got you here, kind of a bitch move on your end “well, that’s a valid criticism to be sure, do you want me to ask now?”

Jason looks as if he’s seriously contemplating the question, in the meanwhile your shoulders feel like they’re being crushed under Jason’s contemplation. This makes the task of unfastening your forward-fastening bra only barely manageable, as evidenced by the fact that despite managing to unhook the, uhh, hook, your breasts are at the moment still covered by the loose fabric.

Jason, seemingly having finished his calculations begins to move to respond. This involves him moving and then saying, “Yeah definitely.”

“Oh, hey Jason is it okay if- “

Haha fool! You were tricked, this was a little trick Jason pulled where he put you off your guard by having you ask him a question, only to then use this moment of confusion to swoop his lips into your own. Hah, get absolutely tricked you fucking nerd, now Jason’s making out with you!

Despite having spent what felt to you like a lifetime of a past 20 minutes making out with Jason Todd, it still feels great, getting to learn the intricacies of his lip’s wrinkles (which luckily Jason uses chapstick so the wrinkles are smooth and feel lovely to suck on and tickle) feels just as good as it did minutes ago.

So again, you and Jason are rolling around at the speed of love, not really going anywhere other than on an emotional journey rollercoaster which is ramping up. And in the process as you’re going in circles you can’t help but not notice that your bras finally slipped away letting your breasts push into Jason’s ever warmer and ever more sweaty chest. And on and on you and Jason continue to embrace each other the way diet coke embraces mentos. A veritable explosion of compassion and reactive movements. And so as your thigh rides up the side of Jason’s chest, and as your lips go from matching his to going and exploring the rest of his body, starting from the chin and slowly moving to the neck. At some point you try to sort of hook your thighs onto Jason’s hips, scraping yourself over Jason’s sides trying to plant your soft legs onto anything solid, despite not managing to make a connection you do manage to slowly undermine the elasticity of Jason’s underwear, such that they are now about 10 inches lower then they ought to be were he to attend church.

Jason’s hands don’t really know what to do with themselves outside of assisting in leveraging him towards the parts of your lips he was trying to kiss, which he notices now you stopped doing which put him in the awkward position of having to look down and notice that hey, wow, didn’t you used to have a bra right there on your now bare freckled back, and hey gosh, you sure are down there sucking on neck huh. It sure is convenient Jason got over himself earlier otherwise he’d be liable to turn into a pomegranate and burst. But like, he didn’t totally get over himself, he’s still pretty red over the whole situation. Anyway, he resolves to fix the situation by grabbing you and getting his lips back onto yours.

In this process Jason realizes that hey wow, you sure are nude, your bra sure isn’t on huh? Oh man, you know, on account of your bosom having been sort of crushed into Jason’s relatively flat chest you’d barely even noticed to be honest. As a sort of empathic response Jason also realizes that his nether are pretty much, well essentially two thirds of his shaft are visible which is uhh, two thirds more than were previously visible, y’know?

All of these thoughts come to mind in like a fraction of an instant, which makes this a real make or break moment. Will Jason utterly implode with embarrassment and leave the room crying and nude? Or will that not happen? Who’s to say.

Well, apparently you are since on noticing Jason having clawed you away from his warm torso, you, in a seeming turning of the tables, turn the tables and pounce on him, or at least do as best of a job as you can pouncing on somebody holding you at almost arm’s length who weighs probably a lot more than you it’s hard to say what exact multiple.

But Jason’s arms give in and now once again like in some sort of eternal struggle you are now once more on top of Jason. And as it happens, you’re on top of Jason in a very specific way such that wow look, there sure does happen to be a thoroughly revealing set of boxers being pitched up ever so much in front of you.

I mean, yeah, I think you definitely pretty much see where you went with this.

You dragged Jason far enough to slump him over the guest bed and stuffed the strange guy who’s face looks like somebody mistook it for grapes into the fridge.

But then amazingly, despite having been passed out, Jason passes in, so to speak, and regains consciousness. His first duty upon waking up was apparently to faceplant into the floor of your guest bedroom, making sure to leave it (the floor) both bloody *and* bruised. Oh dear, the downstairs neighbours are gonna be mad again hopefully they don’t leave another strongly worded letter taped onto your now strongly reddened door.

You know, it’s not that amazing that Jason woke up, he’s a pretty beefy guy, you’d be surprised what a Lazarus pit can do to your stamina.

“GmmMMMmMMMMMMM… gm- gmmnmmmmnnm..” or something along those lines is Jason’s reaction to getting his forehead bruised.

“(⊙_⊙)” is more or less your reaction to Jason’s reaction. So you go back into the guest bedroom with your sewing kit and a sponge, to start sewing.

Jason having just regained consciousness with enough blood in his body to maybe fill a vending machine Pepsi bottle, well he’s not really very lucid, it’s sort of like talking to a person who you just woke up from bed, except with more suffering.

As you turn the corner into the room, you can’t help but see Jason bent over the bed, which would normally be a pretty attractive sight, if his legs were where his face currently is and vica versa. Anyway, you get onto the bed beside Jason and sort of try and pull his arms from the floor back onto the bed, and that doesn’t work, but it does look pretty silly. What a conundrum, you solve it by sort of dragging Jason over the bed from his legs like the corpse he almost is.

As it happens, the friction of pulling Jason this way sort of undid his extremely bloody and extremely attractive leather jacket, revealing a charcuterie of welts on his back, and also, once you turn him around, his belly button. It’s an innie.

Sitting beside Jason’s not y-posed body, you try and figure out a way to wake him up.

“Jason wake up.”  
No effect.

“Jason, I’m gonna go get some cold water to throw on you, which’ll soak the bed, so you better be the one doing the laundry this week.”

You kiss Jason’s tummy, it’s tummy flavoured.

You slowly move kiss lower and lower, if Jason’s stomach was a proverbial pirate’s plank, you’d certainly be walking it, to say the least.

You move sort of the same way a cat does when it’s prowling, so you prowl away from Jason.

At some point you put the slightest bit of pressure on his precarious undergarment arrangement.

The noise of a door stopper spring plays.

“Hey Jason?”

“Can I suck on your dick, please?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-“

“Oh that’s ok, sorry to bring it up, you know yeah you’re right, hey you know I wonder if dinner-”

“-hhhhhhhhhh yeah sure alright.”

You make a face sort of like “OwO”

And then you and Jason have oral sex.


End file.
